Burned Bridges
by RowanJade
Summary: Sequel/Bookend to Before The Burn- why Michael is so isolated and distant when it comes to his past. And possibly his future. Also put out all at once so you don't have to wait to see if I'll ever finish it...
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Burned Bridges  
**Warning:** none really, it's all made up after the time frame of "Good Soldier" so if you've seen that, you're good.

**Genre: **Drama/Spy stuff  
**Rating:** PG-13 (ish)  
**Word count: **10,434  
**Characters:** Michael, Fiona, Sam, Lucy & a bunch of OCs

**Author's Note:** After discovering this show and falling in love with it I kinda started to wonder what happened to Michael before the Burn came. Like why does he refuse to commit to Fiona, or anything else for that matter. What happened to him that made him so isolated? This is what I figured out. This _is_ a sequel to _Before The Burn_ so you might wanna read that first, it's a nice package deal, like bookends.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the characters of Burn Notice, if I did I'd be a freaking happy girl wouldn't I? Don't bother suing me, I've got less than a burned spy does.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Michael Westen nervously tapped his fingers against this thigh as the elevator stopped one more time on the floor just below the one he wanted to get to. Sam had called him twenty minutes ago to let him know that Carla looked like she was finally going to make her move. She'd been meeting with people for days now at the hotel and Michael thought it was all leading up to some sort of assassination but he just couldn't put his finger on the truth of it all. Carla was definitely up to something shady though and if it was something that he could stop he would.

When Carla had contacted him to offer him a position in whatever covert section she worked in Michael had dismissed the offer immediately. All he wanted was his old life back, or at least some of it. He'd never get back everything he'd lost, Afghanistan had taken care of that once and for all, but getting his job back would be a good start. Carla was persistent though and her offer was sounding better and worse all the time. Her methods were obviously well beyond anything that was sanctioned and Michael wasn't entirely sure that she was even working for the US government. For all he knew she was trying to take the home team down. But she was offering him a way to get back in the game and after all that had happened recently, it didn't sound that bad.

What was really stopping him from taking it was the fact that he was still loyal to his country. No matter how much crap they'd put him through over the years he would never change that. So he'd decided to figure out who Carla was before even thinking about saying yes to her. But Carla was a sneaky woman and it seemed like every time he got one step closer to her she pushed him another three steps back. Michael however, wouldn't be put off that easy, he loved a challenge and Carla was definitely that.

He finally made it off the elevator and into the room Sam had been living in for a week while he watched Carla meeting with a lot of different characters. "Hey Sam, what ya got?" he said as he walked into the room.

"Well, our girl's been having a lot of meetings lately. Bunch of foreign types," he pointed out the window to the patio below where Carla was even now speaking with two hulking men that were obviously of Middle Eastern descent. "I can't name any of them but they all look like heavies. Anyway, I thought now might be a good time to go check out Carla's room." He grinned and told Michael about the master key and the facial recognition software on her door before handing him a headshot of the head housekeeper.

Michael found several things in Carla's room; including pictures of several known assassins including the man they'd been watching who was going by the name of Bill Johnson. This could mean any number of things but Michael took photos of all of it and got back out before Carla returned. That information all got put aside for a while as Michael finished the job he'd promised Fi he'd do for Campbell. What a mess that was. How did he ever get sucked into doing a job for his ex-girlfriend's new boyfriend?

When Fiona had arrived in Miami because Michael was still carrying her number as an emergency contact in his wallet, he hadn't really thought anything of it. Sure they had been romantically involved in the past but that didn't mean there was anything left between them. In fact, he was pretty sure she still hated him. When he'd gone undercover to infiltrate the IRA he'd found a confidante in Fiona. She was sympathetic to his plans, mainly because even though she'd always be loyal to the principles the IRA held dear, she didn't always agree with their methods, which was pretty odd once you got to know Fiona's idea of a good time. But she'd been willing to help him and they'd fallen for each other, a fact that surprised Michael more than a little because he'd sworn he would never let anyone get that close to him again after Raina. And when things went sour and his cover was compromised he left her, with no warning, no explanation, just vanished into the night. She had been pissed at him for that too, until he'd explained to her that he did it to protect her. She still hadn't come out to say that she'd forgiven him but he could tell.

So when she decided that he needed to commit to her he freaked out a little. She should have known by that point that Michael's only priority was to figure out why he was burned. And when he told her that she decided that if he wouldn't drop it she'd leave him. So he did, and she did and now their relationship was cool at best. But the look that she'd given him the other night when he'd been feeding Lesher that load of crap about finding himself made him think that maybe Fiona still cared a little, even if she was hanging all over Campbell to try to prove she didn't. But Fiona deserved to be happy for once and Michael just couldn't give her that.

XxXxXxXx

When everything started to hit the proverbial fan Michael lost control. The panicked voice of his mother on the phone started it off. The cops were taking Nate away, she said, and Michael felt the steel trap snap into place around his life. Carla was taking steps to ensure that he would do exactly what she said or his family and friends would suffer for it. But he couldn't ride to the rescue just yet; he had to stop the sniper from taking out his target. And then the trap got tighter as he realized what Carla was doing on the pier. He sent Sam to find the sniper and see if he could be stopped that way. Fiona was running interference while he made a break for it to go retrieve the key card from his apartment. And then the chase was on.

After he'd lost Carla he steered the motorcycle towards his apartment and tried to put the pieces of this crazy puzzle together. Why was Carla interviewing more hired goons when she already had a sniper in place with a target? Why was she trying to throw Michael off by showing him that she was bold enough to take out someone in broad daylight? And who the hell was the target? None of it made any sense from any angle he examined it. He pulled up to the apartment with his mind still in a whirl and climbed up the stairs.

When the phone rang and Sam told him about Johnson's untimely demise one more piece was added to the riot of information already spinning in his head. The chaos of it all was almost enough to over power the nagging thought that something was terribly wrong. Luckily, Michael's training and attention to his gut instinct kicked in with just enough time for him to throw himself over the railing of the stairs as the booby-trapped door exploded.


	2. Chapter 2

Michael lay on the pavement looking up at what used to be his apartment. He ached from head to toe and was pretty sure there were some broken bones somewhere that were the cause of the sharp pains radiating from his neck. The fire poured out of the hole that used to be his door and he could feel the heat washing down over his face. He should probably move, eventually the fire would reach something else explosive in there and he probably didn't want to be in its path, but he just couldn't move yet.

Oleg came running through the gate shouting his name, "Michael?" He mumbled something else followed by loud cursing in Russian as he ducked under the rain of debris and knelt at Michael's side. "What happened? Can you move?"

"Fire truck?" Michael groaned as he tried to roll over so he could get up.

"On the way," Oleg responded running his gaze over his tenant to determine if he could be moved or not.

Michael was trying to take stock of his injuries by slowly moving various parts, he could feel and move his feet so he was pretty sure he didn't have a spinal injury so he motioned for Oleg to help him up and they staggered out the gate towards the street to wait for the fire trucks. Michael leaned against a car and looked up at the ruined mess that used to be his apartment. It hadn't been much but it was a roof over his head. And now, the key card was probably gone too so he really had no chance of stopping Carla.

Something tickled at his memory and the faint thought of what Sam had told him before the explosion registered, the assassin was dead. Wondering what the hell Carla was doing he asked Oleg for a phone and the Russian man pulled one out of his pocket and handed it to Michael. He dialed Fiona's number from memory and waited for her to pick up. "Fi? We've got a problem."

"No kidding Michael, I wrecked my brand new car to save your ass. Who's going to pay for it?"

"Fi, bigger than that. Someone just blew up my apartment."

"What?" He could hear the brakes of her car squealing as she turned around and headed for his place. "Are you okay, what happened?"

"I'll live." He turned away from Oleg for a moment and said quietly, "The key card is history though."

"Hang on Michael, I'm on my way," Fiona said before she hung up.

XxXxXxXx

Both Fiona and Sam arrived a short time later. Sam had heard the explosion before the phone went dead and he'd wasted no time in tearing across town to Michael's apartment. Fiona beat him there but not by much. They found Michael sitting on the back bumper of an ambulance with an EMT shining a light in his eyes. He waved feebly at them and they waited for the exam to be over before hitting him with a barrage of questions.

"Relax you two, I'm fine. And I have no idea what happens next."

"You think Carla did this to tell you to back off?" Sam asked.

"No, this was done before she lured me to the pier. She knew you put a tracker on her bike. And she sent someone else to do this and take out Johnson knowing full well I'd come back here." He started pacing back and forth as he tried to work out what the hell Carla was up to.

Sam looked startled and shook his finger at Michael, "You don't think that bunch of pictures you found in her room were a hit list do you?"

"No, I don't think she wants me dead. Plus Victor was in there too and he's her little lap dog. No, she's up to something but hell if I know what it is."

"So what's the next step?" Fiona asked as she looked over at the ruined bumper of her car.

Michael stopped pacing and looked at his friends, "Find out what Carla's next move is and hope that gives us a clue what her end game is."

XxXxXxXx

Two days later Michael was pacing the old ratty carpet of the crappy hotel he'd been staying in. The room left a lot to be desired but it was the best he could do for now. There were pieces of paper strewn all over the room with scribbled bits of information that he'd been jotting down in an attempt to piece together the puzzle Carla had given him. He'd been trying to find that one elusive piece that would make everything else fit together but he just couldn't reach it.

While he and Fiona watched his apartment burn he'd sent Sam back to the hotel to see if he could pick up Carla's trail again. She had long since cleared out by the time he got there though, and Sam reported back that he would shake the contact tree again and see if anyone he knew could come up with anything. So Fiona had dropped him off at this hotel and promised she too would see if she could come up with anything.

Nate had been released from custody after being questioned for several hours about a drug smuggling ring that he obviously knew nothing about. Once that little problem was taken care of Michael had gone to his mother's house and changed all the locks and installed a listening device of his own and a camera to keep an eye on her. Of course he didn't tell her about the camera or the bug because that would just make her panic more. She'd been so freaked out by Nate's arrest and the apartment exploding that Michael had to send her out of town to keep her from making him crazier than he already was.

The cell phone on the table rang and he hurried over to it, "Yeah Sam, what did you find?"

"Not a lot, Carla is in the wind and no one can get a bead on her. Whatever she had going on, it seems to be done."

"Damn it," Michael hissed under his breath, "Okay Sam, thanks for your help. Lemme know if you hear anything at all."

"Will do Mikey," Sam said before he hung up.

Michael looked at the phone in his hand like it could give him the answers he needed. Something big was going down and if he didn't find out what in time to put a wrench in the operation, he had a feeling that a lot of people were going to get hurt. The last time he'd had a feeling like this his whole world had shattered and he'd lost everything he cared about in the space of an hour. So he wouldn't ignore this feeling, he couldn't, not if he wanted to retain some small portion of his sanity. And Carla was the key to it all so he would do whatever the hell it took to find her.

Thinking it might be helpful to try to track down someone else who had a hand in the pie he grabbed his jacket and the keys to the Charger and headed out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

The big black car rumbled to a stop outside the taped off area that marked the perimeter of the safe area. Michael whistled as he got out of the car and surveyed what was left of the apartment and the club underneath it. Most of the roof had caved in before the fire department had gotten the blaze under control but the walls and floor looked to be intact. Michael ducked under the tape after glancing around to make sure no one was watching him. Then he made his way through the debris that littered the ground and climbed the stairs to the upper level.

He could see that most of the meager possessions he'd picked up during his time in Miami were destroyed. He'd already written off his clothing and all of the stuff that had been near the door. He couldn't help but smile at the fact that the beat up old refrigerator was still in the corner, a bright spot in the otherwise blackened wreckage. The good news was that most of the kitchen was still intact and he carefully walked towards it checking for loose boards with his feet. One of the cabinet doors was hanging at a strange angle but the rest of the cupboards seemed to be okay. He hefted himself up onto the corner counter by the refrigerator and felt along the ledge looking for the cell phone that Victor had given him. His fingers found the tacky red plastic phone and a grin crept across Michael's face. At least he could still find Victor, maybe.

He took the phone and left the apartment, walking down the stairs and shaking his head in wonder that he actually survived the blast. Whoever had set the charge on Carla's orders had been told not to leave any trace behind. So the charge had been violent and way bigger than necessary. Someone _really_ didn't want Michael around to mess up their plans.

He was thinking about how he could find a way to get the phone to trace Victor as he got into his car and revved the engine. What he didn't notice as he drove away was the person who was standing in the shadows across the street watching him.

XxXxXxXx

Michael got back to the hotel late that night, he'd been out on his own trying to track down Carla and find out if there was anything that pointed to what she was up to. He'd called Barry the money launderer and asked if he'd heard anything fishy and then followed a few leads Barry had given him but nothing had panned out. Sighing in frustration he unlocked the door and fumbled for the light switch on the wall. The harsh yellow light made him blink for a moment as he closed the door behind him. He tossed his jacket and keys on the lumpy padded chair by the door and returned to his scribbled notes.

He had started at one end of the laid out path of papers and was halfway through them when he noticed the envelope. It had nothing on it; just a plain mailing envelope but it certainly hadn't been there when he left. He glared at it for a minute before reaching over and tapping the corner of it. It skittered across the table so it wasn't booby-trapped and there wasn't anything heavy in it. He finally picked it up and flipped it over to find that it was sealed, so he carefully ripped off one end of it and peered inside. What he found was a piece of plain white paper with a carefully written note on it that read, '_Carla is not the answer. Don't trust her_.'

He didn't have time to worry about that cryptic message before there was a knock on his door. He shoved the note under the stack of papers on the table and walked to the wall beside the door, "Who is it?"

"Open the door Michael," came a familiar voice from the hall.

He did open it, carefully, and found Victor glaring at him from outside. "What do you want?"

Victor smiled and stepped past Michael into the room, "Wow Michael, what a shit hole. Can't you find a better hotel than this?" He walked to the table and ran his gaze over the path of papers laid out, "Oh no, no, no, you've got this all wrong pal. This makes it look like we're mad at you or something. Remember, we want you on our side."

"Well then why did Carla blow up my apartment?" Michael asked as he put himself between Victor and the door. He didn't want to let his only shot at some answers to escape.

Victor seemed to be caught by surprise by the question, "She did what? No…Carla wouldn't blow up your apartment. Must have been someone else you pissed off." He smirked at the other man and stood with his hands crossed in front of him.

"So what the hell do you want then?"

"Got a little errand I want you to do for me. I would have told you over the phone but you haven't been answering my calls." He clucked his tongue and waggled a finger back and forth, "Bad boy Michael, I thought we had an understanding."

"Yeah, well it was in the apartment. Get over it. And I'm not your errand boy so find someone else to deliver your sniper rifles and what not."

Victor grinned and nodded, "Wondered how long it would take you to figure that one out. What'd you do? Peek in the box, follow me?"

Michael rolled his eyes. He was tired of these games but he knew if he didn't play along he'd never have a shot at figuring out what Carla wanted. "X-ray. Nice piece by the way." He stepped closer to the other man, "One more time, what do you want?"

"I already told you Michael and you don't have a choice. I've told you before and I will not tell you again, you play nice or we'll start stepping on some toes. We'll start with your brother; remember that tiny arrest he had recently? Well that's not going to go away."

Michael bristled at the threat but he knew that if he wanted to find Carla again he'd have to play along. "Fine, what's the job?"

Victor grinned at him, "Good boy Michael." He took a folded piece of paper from his pocket and dropped it on the table, "Everything you need to know is there. Don't take too long Michael, we're on a schedule."

As Michael went to get the paper Victor stepped around him and left the room. Michael opened the folded paper to find only an address, which told him nothing. Sighing loudly he tossed the paper back on the table and flopped down on the bed to get some sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Michael and Sam sat in the Charger watching the building that the address led them to. The building was an empty office on the north end of town and so far there was nothing at all that gave them a clue about what Victor wanted them to do. They had scoped out the building this morning and found it deserted, so now they were waiting outside to see if anyone showed up that would give them something to go on.

"You really think this is going to help? I mean Victor doesn't seem to be a team player Mikey," Sam said sipping at his cup of coffee.

"Well, I've got nothing else to go on right now. Besides, what else did you have planned for today?"

Sam laughed, ever since he'd told Veronica how he felt about her he'd been trying to find the right way to apologize and nothing seemed to be working. So he'd been sitting in bars and helping Michael out whenever he could to keep himself occupied. "Yeah, you've got a point. So, any prospects on a new place to live?"

"Not yet. Oleg says he has a cousin that will cut me a deal but it's not that great of a neighborhood and I'd rather not have to start killing the neighbors for breaking into my car." Michael kept his eyes on the building as he talked.

Sam nodded at the response and then they lapsed back into silence for a while. Sam's attention span was much shorter than it used to be and he got bored soon, reaching into the back seat and grabbing a magazine that Fiona had left in the car and started flipping through the pages. "Hey Mike, look at this, you can find out if he's really the one for you by taking this simple quiz."

Sam's attempt at levity was lost on the other man; he'd had way too many problems in his life recently to be cheered up by a bad joke. Sam however, wouldn't give up that easily, "Think Fiona's got you in mind when she's taking this?"

"I doubt it."

"I don't know Mike, she's still in love with you no matter what she says."

"Yeah well that may be the case but nothing's ever going to come of it. It can't." He had his reasons for pushing Fiona away and he'd never admit it but he was glad that she'd found Campbell. The guy was stable and that's what Fiona needed, something to ground her.

"I still say you're crazy for letting her go Mikey. I know I had my issues in the past with Fiona but now that I know her better, she's a good thing. A good match for you."

Michael's jaw clenched tightly, "No one is a good match for me Sam. No one."

Any reply Sam would have made was cut off by the appearance of a man walking down the otherwise deserted street towards the building. He was glancing around, obviously looking for a tail and eventually he made his way into the building. Sam looked over at Michael who motioned to remain there to see what happened. Twenty minutes later the man re-emerged with a plain brown envelope under his arm. Michael was watching the door with a pair of compact binoculars to see if he could identify the man and when he emerged and looked directly across the street Sam could hear the gasp of shock from Michael before he dropped the binoculars.

XxXxXxXx

"Hey, Earth to Mike, anyone in there?" Sam snapped his fingers near Michael's ear before the younger man snapped out of his daze and looked at him. "You okay there Mikey? You look like you just saw a ghost."

"I did." He didn't say anything else as he pulled his phone out and dialed as he got out of the car.

Sam couldn't hear what he was saying but his agitated pacing was a sure sign that something was seriously wrong. He wasn't about to intrude on whatever it was that had Michael so riled up so he just sat patiently in the car. If Michael wanted to clue him in, he would. Probably. After five minutes or so Michael got back in the car and started the engine.

"So…where to now?"

"Lucy's office." Michael didn't say anything else after that; he was obviously lost in thought as he drove mechanically through the streets of the city towards the building that Lucy's security company was located in. They parked the car and walked into the lobby, Michael heading for the front desk. He politely asked to speak to Ms. Chen and told the man to tell her that Michael Verstraeten would like to see her. Sam raised a questioning eyebrow at his friend as the guard called up to the main office. A moment later the guard waved them past the desk and the got on the elevator headed towards the security firm's office.

Sam studied Michael in the mirrored walls of the elevator as they rode up. Michael was standing in what most agents called the 'body guard pose', his hands crossed in front of his pelvis, shoulders tensed and jaw clenched. Sam could also see that he was running his thumb constantly over the knuckles his left hand like he was searching for something that wasn't there. The other man's behavior told Sam nothing other than the fact that Michael was seriously on edge about something.

When they reached Lucy's office, her secretary showed them in and Lucy, who was on the phone, motioned for them to come in and for the secretary to leave. "I see, all right, thank you for your help and let me know if you hear anything." She hung up the phone and looked critically at Michael.

"Lucy, what's the good word?" Sam asked with a smile.

"Nothing good I'm afraid." She got up from the desk and came around to the front near them, "I'm sorry Michael, I can't track him. There's nothing even remotely close to a blip in the past ten years. As far as anyone in the business knew he was dead."

"I'm telling you Luce, I saw him. I will never, ever forget that face."

"So uh, could someone clue me in here?" Sam asked.

Lucy glanced at Sam and then back to Michael to see if the younger man was going to spill the beans or not. "The guy at the building was someone I knew from a long time ago."

"Yeah, and?"

Michael turned to Sam, "Does the name Mahsood Ahmadzai mean anything to you?"

Sam looked confused for a moment and then curled his lip, "Mahsood? The one that pulled that nasty job in Egypt? And the one in Moscow? And Berlin?" Michael nodded at each city. "Bad business that one, but he's dead. Been dead for years now."

"Apparently not," Lucy said as she leaned against the desk looking at Michael with curiosity.

"No, he's very much alive, and if he's here then we're in for a world of hurt," Michael grumbled.

Lucy apparently wasn't quite as familiar with the man's name, "So what's the deal with this guy? I don't know his history."

Michael and Sam exchanged a glance and then Sam told her, "Mahsood likes collateral damage. The more the better." Lucy's eyes got wider as she thought about all the people she knew in this city including her family. "Yeah, and he has a thing for Sarin and VX."

"Well, what can we do to stop him?" The worry written on Lucy's face made Sam uneasy and he started tugging at the collar of his loud Hawaiian shirt.

Michael hadn't said anything for a while; he was just staring out the window, rubbing the knuckles of his hand. "Mikey? You got any ideas?" Michael still didn't respond, whatever was on his mind was something serious. Sam put a soft hand on his friend's shoulder, "Mike? You okay?"

"Yeah Sam," he replied, snapping out of his daze.

"I take it you and Mahsood have some history?" Sam asked. He knew his friend pretty well and if the mere presence of Mahsood had him this far into the ether then something serious was behind it.

Michael nodded once, "Yeah, he was in Afghanistan."

That one word told Sam all he needed to know. Afghanistan was the job that turned Michael's world on it's ear and the younger man would probably never get over how badly that job had gone. Mike never talked about the particulars but he didn't need to, the way he said the name of the country was enough. Most operatives had something that had gone wrong in their past and you could always tell by the way they said the name of the place it happened. Sam glanced behind him at Lucy's pretty face to see if she had any indication of knowing what was troubling Michael. She shrugged and returned her gaze to Michael.

"Lucy, can I use your network?" Michael asked, not waiting for an answer but going to the large chair behind her desk and tapping away at the keys. He surfed through several sites and glanced at information without saying a word for a long time.

Sam was starting to get curious because he made his way around the desk and looked over Michael's shoulder, surprise registering on his face after he figured out what Michael was doing. "Wow Mike, you're a better hacker than I thought."

That statement made Lucy nervous and she leaned over the desk to look at what was going on that might potentially get her in a lot of trouble. "Relax Lucy, it's nothing that will register anywhere," Michael said to placate her. After a while he found what he was looking for and he printed a few pages of information to the printer near the wall. "Thanks Luce, and keep me informed if you hear anything about this guy or anything fishy."

Lucy watched as the two men exited her office as quickly as they had arrived and wondered if she should call her mother to tell her it was time to take a vacation.

XxXxXxXx

Sam didn't say anything to Michael until they got outside, even though his curiosity was killing him. He'd seen what Michael was looking up and it had surprised him but also made him realize that there was more to this than what Michael was letting on. "So you wanna talk about it?"

"About what Sam?" They got into the Charger and Michael revved the engine but didn't pull out of the parking space.

Sam glared at his friend, Michael wouldn't ever just volunteer personal information, he had been trained too well for that. But after the burn and all that the two of them had been through in the past few months, he thought that Michael could trust him by now. "Mahsood. And whatever it is about him that's got you so worked up."

"He's just a nasty customer Sam. That's all."

Sam slapped his hand on the dashboard in frustration, "That's _not_ all Mikey. I know you better than that. Spill."

The younger man pinched the bridge of his nose and then looked down at his lap where he found that his thumb was once again rubbing the knuckles of his left hand. "I watched Mahsood kill another operator because I couldn't risk blowing my cover."

Sam chewed on the explanation for a minute, studying his friend's profile and the set of his jaw across the car, "Someone you cared about?"

"Yeah…a…friend."

"I'm sure there wasn't anything you could do Mikey. Shit happens."

Michael didn't say anything in reply; he just put the car in gear and pulled out into traffic. They drove in silence for a while, headed across town towards where Sam's car was parked. Sam knew Michael needed some time to think about whatever it was that was bugging him. He'd lost friends over the years too, and you never really got over it, especially when you were there. You spent years afterwards playing the 'what if' game with yourself, running the scenario over and over in your head wondering if something you said or did differently could have saved them. Whatever had happened to Mike had shaken him up enough that he still hadn't given up playing the 'what if' game.

Sam thought back to when he'd first met Michael, he'd been young and full of piss and vinegar, still fresh in the game. He'd still been just Mike then, not nearly as serious as he was now, quick to laugh and willing to take risks. But when he'd come back from Afghanistan he'd been different, more sober and serious. And Mike Westen was gone and in his place was Michael, always Michael. Sam didn't know anyone that still called him Mike these days, not even Fiona. It was like his friend had reinvented himself after that and the man in his place was nothing like the one Sam had first met.

They pulled into the parking lot where Sam's car had been left and Sam looked over at Michael, "So what now?"

"I need to get in touch with Carla. If whatever she's up to involves Mahsood, then we need to find out so we can plan accordingly."

"And just how do you plan on doing that? I thought she wouldn't give you any information."

Michael smiled with a devious look, "She hasn't, and now that the keycard is gone I have to figure out something else. So I think I'm going to take a vacation. I bet Aruba's nice right now."

Sam looked confused, "Uh Mike?"

"She doesn't want me to leave town so if I book a plane ticket, that should get her attention. Can you check your contacts and see if anyone knows anything about any high profile targets in town?" Sam nodded and stepped back as Michael put the car in gear, "Call me if you hear anything."


	5. Chapter 5

When Michael walked into his hotel room he found another mysterious envelope on the table. Inside was another carefully written note, this one saying, '_Not everything is as it seems.' _He snorted at the cryptic nature of this latest note and stashed it with the last one. After he'd left Sam, he'd visited three different big name travel agents in the area, asking a lot of questions and dropping his name left and right. He knew that the standard practice was that the agents would take your name and put it in their system with a note about where you wanted to go so they could call you back and hound you until you bought a vacation from them. Sooner or later that would hit Carla's radar and he should hear from her.

Then he called Fiona and asked her to check her contacts to see if any of them knew what Mahsood was doing in town. She obviously didn't know the man's background or she'd be more interested in his moves, but she sounded bored and promised she'd check around. An hour later she called back, apparently being told about Mahsood's proclivities, "What the hell is this guy doing in Miami Michael?"

"I've no idea Fi, that's what I need to know." They discussed options for finding him after Michael filled her in on Victor's job and the stakeout that morning. "I guess I'm going to have to keep watching that building."

"Well count me in too," Fiona said. She knew what a disaster it would be if Mahsood did something in a city this populated. He seemed to think that more collateral damage was better, so there was no telling what kind of chaos he could pull off in a city with over a half a million residents.

They agreed to meet in the morning to revisit the building Victor had advised Michael about. Sam also decided to get in on the action, calling Michael early the next morning to check in and see what the next move was. So they sat on the street across from the deserted office, watching it for signs of life. "I think we should go in," Fiona said from the back seat, cocking her gun loudly.

"Let's watch for a while Fi," Michael said from behind a pair of binoculars. "If Mahsood's got some nasty party favors in there, I'd rather be fashionably late."

"I'll second that," Sam grumbled.

So they watched the building for a while with nothing happening. Their silence was broken by Michael's cell phone ringing on the front seat. "Hello?"

"Michael, I thought I told you to stay put," Carla's smoky voice purred in his ear.

"Well I had to do something to get your attention."

"You've go it now. What's your game?"

Michael rolled his eyes, "Not my game Carla, what's yours?" He could hear her tapping at computer keys in the background but that didn't give him a clue as to where she was or what she was up to.

"I don't have time for this Michael…"

He cut her off and got to the point. "Why is Mahsood in Miami?"

Carla stopped typing, "Mahsood?"

"Ahmadzai, stop the riddles Carla and tell me what's going on." She tried to conceal the little intake of breath at the name but he heard it. "You didn't know?"

Now she was tapping furiously on the keys again, "No. How? He's supposed to be dead."

The pain behind Michael's eyes started throbbing again, "I assure you he's not. And he's here. What is going on?"

"I don't know. Let me make some calls. Stay put, don't try to contact him." She hung up before he could say anything else.

"Well?" Sam was obviously nervous about the whole thing. But then, nerve gas was enough to make anyone a little edgy.

Michael shrugged, "She's checking it out."

XxXxXxXx

Carla speed dialed her superior the instant she disconnected with Michael. The phone rang several times and each time her impatience and nervousness grew. Mahsood was an unexpected player in the operation and that wasn't a good thing. Finally the phone was answered by a cold voice with little emotion, "What?"

"Why is Mahsood Ahmadzai in Miami?"

"That's nothing that concerns you."

Carla swallowed softly, she wasn't used to being kept in the dark about the operations that she dealt with. "I think it might concern me, and you as well." There was no reply from her contact and that bothered her more than the idea of not knowing what was going on did. "Westen is in on this and he's probably going to go after Ahmadzai."

"Then you need to stop him from doing that." There was no explanation following, just the buzz of the dial tone after the connection was broken.

Carla sighed and dialed Michael's number back. "Don't do anything," she said without explanation. "Stay out of this."

"I'm past that Carla. You threatened my family; you blew up my apartment and now this. I'm done being your pawn."

"Michael, what are you talking about?"

"You know damn well…"

"No I don't. What is this about your apartment?"

Michael blinked in surprise, if Carla didn't really have anything to do with the booby trap on his door, then who did? "You didn't booby trap the door?"

"No." The furious tapping of keys on her computer started up again. "Who else knows about this?"

Michael wasn't sure what she was asking, "My team and Victor probably."

"Who's Victor? What are you talking about Michael?" Carla's voice was full of worry.

The realization that he was being played coursed through his blood like ice and he quickly ran through all the things that Victor, or whatever his name was, had told him. "Victor isn't the handler you sent to mind me?"

"No, I'm your handler Michael, no one else. Who is he?"

"Well how the hell would I know that? I don't even know who _you_ are." He was practically shouting into the phone. Sam was grabbing at the binoculars on the dashboard as Fiona massaged his neck in a feeble attempt to calm him down.

"Mikey…" Sam pointed across the street to where Mahsood was walking up to the deserted building with a large crate on his shoulder.

"Gotta go Carla. We'll talk later."

"Michael wait! Don't do anything…" Her pleading request was cut off as he hung up the phone.

XxXxXxXx

"Damn it!" Carla shouted as she glared at the phone in her hand and then punched in the speed dial number one more time. This time the call was answered on the second ring. "We've got a problem. Westen's going after Mahsood."

"Well you need to stop him."

"I can't, he won't listen to me."

"Then get over there."

Carla shook her head as if the person on the other end could see it; "I'm already in Atlanta."

Silence echoed in the phone for a full minute, "Fine, then I will." And then the call was disconnected.


	6. Chapter 6

Michael took the lead, rushing across the street, pistol in hand and his eyes and ears pealed for any sign of an ambush. Fiona dashed to the left side of the building to a small fire exit that would let her get in from another angle. Sam had taken the Charger around the block and would come in through the loading dock. It hadn't taken them more than a minute to agree on their plan before they were off. Michael had stressed that Mahsood couldn't be allowed to do anything that would endanger the lives of the civilians that were only a few hundred yards away and he got no argument from Sam or Fiona.

When Michael stepped into the dark lobby of the building he stood still for a moment and took his sunglasses off to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim interior. There wasn't any power in the building so the only light was coming from the glass door and widows along the main hallway. He stepped lightly as he moved along, not wanting to alert Mahsood to his presence if possible. He was afraid that if Mahsood panicked and did something stupid they'd all die a painful death. He could hear the sound of Fiona destroying the lock on the fire door as he passed the open stairway that led to the upper floors and the emergency exit. Daylight flooded the dark area as she stepped in and he motioned for her to be quiet as he checked the rest of the floor for signs of Mahsood.

Because the main floor was mostly open, it was easy to tell that their quarry wasn't on that floor. The rest of the building would be harder though, because it was filled with individual offices instead of the vast open spaces that most companies used now to fill with cubicles. Sam found Michael at the back of the building and shrugged his shoulders to signify he hadn't seen Mahsood leave. So they went back to where Fiona was peering up the staircase to come up with a tactic for finding the man on one of the seven other floors.

"Stay close as we search, I don't want any surprises," Michael said in a whisper as they all looked at the staircase. They started up it carefully, stepping softly as they went to minimize sound. Fiona had even taken her shoes off to remain silent. Sam trailed behind them, watching their back and shooting glances over his shoulder to make sure Mahsood wasn't behind them. They took a long time on the second floor, staying in a group and dutifully searching all the offices. That seemed like a waste of time so Michael told them to fan out but stay within sight to expedite the process.

They found nothing on any of the first seven floors that indicated anyone had been there in a long time. So Fiona, becoming impatient, trotted up the stairs before Michael and Sam had finished their end of the seventh floor. "Fi!" Michael hissed as she darted out of sight and into the stairwell. He hissed at Sam and then chased after her, taking the stairs two at a time. When he reached the landing of the eighth floor there was no sign of Fiona and he couldn't tell what direction she'd gone in, so he took a chance and went to his right.

This floor wasn't like the rest and was a maze of conference rooms and smaller sections so he weaved through them as quickly as he could without missing a hiding spot. His anxiety mounted as he got closer to the end of the building and there was still no sign of either Fiona or Mahsood. Then he heard a sound like the scraping of a shoe against a tile floor up ahead to the right. He tilted his head in that direction, holding his breath to keep from missing anything. Then he heard it again.

Moving forward he tiptoed towards the large office at the end of the building where the noise had come from. He'd been up here already when they were first checking the building out, and he knew that there was a short hallway and then a large lobby that opened to a series of much smaller offices. Guessing that was where the sound was coming from, he moved towards it without hesitation. Unfortunately, the entrance to that office wasn't glass and he couldn't see inside the open lobby area until he went through the door.

When he came around the corner, gun pointed in front of him, he stopped short, staring in disbelief at what he found.

"Hello Mike."

XxXxXxXxXx

Fiona came jogging back down the main hallway of the upper floor in time to find a confused looking Sam trying to figure out which way to go. "He's that way," she said pointing in the direction opposite where she'd come from. Sam nodded and they darted along the hallways, not wasting time checking to see if rooms were empty or not, if Michael had already come through here and there wasn't any gunshots or shouts echoing through the building, it was safe.

They hurried along until they came to the doorway of the final office and found Michael framed in the doorway, jaw slack in disbelief. Whatever he was staring at had him so shocked that he'd lowered his gun to his side and it now dangled from his loose grip. Fiona darted around the doorway to Michael's side as Sam flanked his other side and they found nothing more than a woman sitting on top of the counter that had once been a receptionist's desk. Fiona waved her gun at the woman who merely smiled back.

"Mikey?" Sam mumbled out of the corner of his mouth as he examined the woman and wondered who she was if she could stun the former spy like that.

"Who the hell are you?" Fiona demanded. When she got no answer she tried a different tack, "Michael?"

The woman hopped down off the counter and walked towards them with her hand outstretched in greeting as both Sam and Fiona cocked their guns towards her. She didn't seem to care though and she kept advancing towards them, "I'm Raina Hesam. Or rather, I was."

The name meant nothing to either of them until Michael croaked, "She's my wife."


End file.
